


Where the Lovelight Gleams

by rabidchild67



Category: White Collar
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Holidays, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s planes, trains and automobiles (actually, trucks, busses, and automobiles), as Neal and Diana try to make it home to New York in time for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Lovelight Gleams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crism79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crism79/gifts).



> For Day 2 of the Twelve Days of Ficmas 2012. This is also my FandomAid story for crism79, who bid on my Sandy auction, and wanted Neal trying to get to Peter and Elizabeth in a snowstorm. I, uh, expanded on that just a little...

**Saturday, December 22**

“Peter Burke.”

“Hey, Peter, it’s me,” Neal said into his cell phone.

“I thought you were supposed to be on a plane by now?” the FBI agent said. Neal could hear something in his voice that made him sound distracted. 

“We were but –“

“Ah, Jeez!” Peter muttered, and Neal could hear a rushing sound as the Taurus came to an abrupt stop.

“Peter?”

“Remind me never to wait to pick out a tree until the weekend before Christmas, Neal.”

Neal laughed. “El was on you to do it for the last two weekends, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to try to wind up the Pederson case before the end of the year, and a fat lot of help you and Di have been out there in Chicago all week, by the way,” he grumbled.

“Is it my fault I’m the only expert on the _[Codex Atlanticus](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Codex_Atlanticus)_ for 1,000 miles?” Neal leaned back in his seat at the gate for his flight out of O’Hare and stretched his legs. “It was nice of you to offer me up to the Chicago field office, by the way. Who knew there were so many impressive galleries in the Windy City?”

“Well, you’d better have kept your hands to yourself.”

“Scout’s honor,” Neal said, and actually held his hand up in the traditional Boy Scout salute. 

“So what’s up with the flight delay?”

“They say equipment problems, whatever that means. Plane probably needs an oil change.”

“Any idea how much longer?”

“None. Diana’s haggling with them now.” Neal looked over to where Diana was still speaking with the gate agent, and he didn’t like the look of it; her gestures were beginning to get broader.

“You’ll still make it Monday night, right? El’s nog’s been aging for a week.” 

“Why does that sound naughtier than it ought to?” Peter snorted. “Of course I’ll be there, Peter – didn’t I say?”

“Well, yeah,” Peter said, sounding a little defensive. “But you know El – she’s really looking forward to you sharing Christmas with us. She says it just wouldn’t be the same without you.” 

“El says?” 

Peter huffed a laugh on the other side of the call. “And me too,” he admitted. “I’m not gonna be the only one with new Christmas jammies under the tree this year, in case that’s any kind of incentive.”

Neal groaned; this was a tradition in Elizabeth’s family, apparently – everyone got tacky flannel pajamas with Santas or snowmen on them, and he didn’t quite get it. 

“Get it out now, Caffrey,” Peter continued, “but it’s a family tradition, and there will be no making fun in front of El.”

Neal felt a warm feeling growing in his chest. “ _Family_ tradition, huh?” 

“Can’t go against tradition,” Peter said. “Ooh! There’s a parking spot – I’d better snag it before that old lady gets it. I’ll see you soon, Neal.”

“Bye.” Neal rang off and stared at his phone for a few seconds. While it had certainly been a year filled with more downs than ups – his forced escape to Cape Verde, Ellen’s death and the revelations about his father to name just a few – to hear his friend say that Neal was considered part of his family filled Neal with a sense of expectation he couldn’t quite quantify. Touched, he blinked back the sudden sting of tears in his eyes, and smiled to himself. He now very much looked forward to spending the holiday with Peter and Elizabeth, more than he ever thought he would.

“Just what do _you_ have to be so satisfied about?” Diana asked, plopping herself into the seat beside him.

“Nothing, just – it’s Christmas, I guess.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t be decking your halls anytime soon, our flight’s been canceled,” Diana said sourly. 

“What? Can they get us on standby on another flight?”

“Sure they can. On Monday. Maybe.”

“Monday’s Christmas Eve,” Neal said, visions of pajamas with footed bottoms filling his mind’s eye. 

“And even then, we’re not a sure thing. Stupid airlines and their scheduling cutbacks.”

“Yeah, well, as much of a fun time as I’ve had all week, Di, I do not want to spend the weekend here with you.”

“I will try not to be insulted by that, Caffrey, and point out that tonight I was supposed to be having some more of the make-up sex with my girlfriend.”

“Aw, make-up sex is the best,” Neal said wistfully, conceding that Diana perhaps had a stronger case for being aggrieved.

“Nah, angry sex is the best,” she corrected.

“A fair point, but make-up sex is way more satisfying,” Neal replied, and Diana was forced to agree. They sat in silence for a minute before Neal thought of something. “How long a drive is it to New York?”

“I dunno – 12, 13 hours?”

“Couldn’t we just rent a car or something?”

A large smile lit up Diana’s face. “Caffrey, you’re a genius – now I know why we pay you the no bucks.”

He rose, gathering up his things. “Well, let’s try to get our luggage back before the rest of our flight has the same brilliant idea.

\----

“What do you _mean_ our luggage has been checked through to our destination?” Diana said, exasperatedly to the airline representative. “ _We_ haven’t been checked through to our destination yet!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it is what it is. You’ll be able to retrieve your bags in Newark when you arrive.”

“Did I mention I was a Federal agent?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

If Diana rolled her eyes any more violently, they may have been lost inside her skull. “It’s OK – we can do this,” Neal told her gently, pulling her away. “Let’s get over to the car rental place, OK?”

\----

“I’m going to weep,” Diana said, looking like she might not be exaggerating. “Right now. In front of the Hertz counter. Do you want to be responsible for that…” she took note of the man’s nametag in front of her, “Herb?”

“I’m sorry,” Herb replied, as had the half a dozen rental agents they’d spoken with in the last hour, “but it’s Christmas – all our cars are spoken-for.”

“Did I mention I’m a Federal agent?” she asked half-heartedly, and Neal felt bad – she had even lost the will to menace.

“Once or twice, ma’am. You have a happy holiday, though,” Herb said with a smile, sweetly condescending, then looked expectantly to the next person in line, effectively dismissing them. 

Diana laid her head against Neal's shoulder and sighed. “I’m so _horny_ ,” she whimpered pathetically.

“There, there,” Neal said, patting her lightly on the back, but not being too touchy, lest she get a second wind and threaten him. “Too bad we can’t grab one of the cars from the Chicago field office’s motor pool, huh? I mean, they’re even bullet-proof!”

“What?” When Diana looked up at him, her bottom lip actually quivered.

“Too bad we can’t boost a car from the motor pool, heh-heh,” he repeated.

“Did you bring your picks?” she asked hopefully.

“Diana!” 

“You didn’t?”

“Of course I did, but you’re not seriously considering grand theft auto with an FBI vehicle?”

\----

“I can’t believe we’re stealing an FBI vehicle,” Neal muttered, looking around the parking garage surreptitiously.

“Oh, stop it, we are not – Agent Greene said this one’s lease was almost up and it had to go back to DC anyway – we can drop it off next weekend.”

“And it had nothing to do with the fact you may have implied you’d go on a date with him?”

“What can I say, I’ve still got it,” she said, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Except he’ll never get it,” Neal pointed out.

“ _A spiritu fornicationis, Domine, libera nos,_ ” she said archly.

“That’s rich coming from the woman who conned the guy into lending her a vehicle so she could get laid tonight.”

“Are you telling me you’re not interested in this ride?”

“I am merely presenting all the facts,” Neal said blandly, climbing into the passenger seat of the black SUV.

“Duly noted.” 

\----

_”All I want for Christmas is boooooooze!”_ Neal sang along to the radio.

“Really? That’s what you want for Christmas?” Diana asked, changing the radio from the all-holiday songs station Neal had put it on when they left Chicago.

“Gets the holiday cheer rolling.”

She laughed. “So what are your plans for Christmas?”

Neal smiled, remembering the warm feeling from earlier that day. “Peter invited me to Casa Burke.”

“You looking forward to it? You sound like you’re looking forward to it.”

“I am. I am, it’s… been a while since I had a real Christmas. What about you? Big plans with Christy?” 

Diana made a face. “We’re spending our Christmases apart this year. I… think her mother hates me since the break-up.”

“Now that can’t be true – what makes you say that?”

“She said, ‘You broke my daughter’s heart, I hate you,’ at Thanksgiving, like, before I even closed the door behind me.”

Neal winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. So, that’s why I need to get home – her flight leaves for Miami tomorrow afternoon, and I wanted to make the most of our time together.”

“Well, we’re making pretty good time. You might not have a romantic evening tonight, but at least you’ll wake up together tomorrow. Morning cuddles are better than make-up sex.”

Diana eyed him closely. “You’re such a romantic.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Anyway, you should know that by now.”

“You’re right, I should. We need to find you a nice girl – I think that’s my New Year’s resolution.”

“Aren’t resolutions supposed to be about bettering yourself?”

“I’d be bettering myself through altruism. Or something.”

“Thanks, but I won’t need your charity. You don’t think I can find nice girls on my own?”

“You really want me to answer that? Consider the evidence.”

“I won’t tell Sara you said that.”

“She’d probably agree with me. What I mean is, you need to mix it up, maybe – find a low-maintenance type, someone sweet and nice who won’t, I dunno, lead you down a path. Like that girl in Cape Verde. Peter said she was very nice.”

Neal smiled fondly, remembering his short time with Maya, and found he missed that sweetness in his life. Still, blind dates gave him hives. “Agreed, but I wish you wouldn’t make me into a project – it’s emasculating somehow.”

“Nonsense. Besides, Christy knows a lot of cute doctors.”

“Can you really see me dating a doctor?” 

“I just want to see you with someone, Neal.”

“Aw, you care about me,” he teased.

“Shut up, I do not. A dating Neal Caffrey is a distracted Neal Caffrey, and that keeps you out of trouble.”

“You really think that?”

“It’s a theory. Hey – look at that – only 15 miles to Indiana.”

“ _Gary Indiana, Gary Indiana, Gary Indiana…_ ” Neal began singing.

“Argh! Do you have a song for everything?”

“I do.”

A loud thud, followed by a violent pull of the SUV to the right made them both stop talking. Diana slammed on the brakes, struggling mightily to keep the car under control as she made for the shoulder. Neal braced himself, ready for an impact that thankfully did not come. 

“Jesus! Are you OK?” Diana asked, her face wild, eyes wide with fear.

“I’m fine, I’m good,” Neal said. “Are you?”

“Yeah. I think so. What the hell happened?”

Neal was already out of his seatbelt and opening the door. He looked at the front of the car and saw the mangled mess that was the front, right tire. “Blow out,” he told her, and she cursed. He closed his car door and moved to the rear of the vehicle, opening it and lifting up the bedliner, then the hatch beneath it under which the spare tire would be stowed. He looked down and then it was his turn to curse. 

“What is it?” Diana asked, turning around in her seat to meet his eye.

“There’s no spare.”

\----

“What do you mean you don’t have it in stock?” Diana asked the salesman at the tire center. Luckily, Neal had spotted the place from the highway, and they’d limped here a few minutes ago.

“Sorry, but we don’t have that size tire in stock. We can order it though,” he said, all chipper.

“Really?”

“Should be here tomorrow afternoon.”

Diana groaned. “Did I mention I was a Federal agent?”

“It may have come up,” he replied drily. 

“Boy, that ‘I’m a Federal agent’ thing always works for Peter,” Neal pointed out when she’d re-joined him in the waiting area.

“I know, what the hell? Well, any ideas?”

“We could wait until tomorrow.”

“No way – I have got to see Christy before she leaves.”

“There a train station anywhere nearby?”

She shook her head. “Already checked on my phone.”

“Bus?”

“The guy at the counter says the closest one is fifty miles from here.”

“Thumb it?”

“Do we have a choice?” She looked like she was on the verge of tears again.

“I’m sorry you’ll miss out on your plans with Christy, Di,” Neal said sympathetically. “But look on the bright side.”

“There’s a bright side?”

“At least you won’t have to go on a date with Agent Greene.”

“Oh, that was _never_ going to happen.”

\----

The sun was beginning to set, its weak light nonetheless making the low cloud cover turn brilliant shades of yellow and orange, when an 18-wheeler pulled over at the side of the Interstate to pick them up.

“Where you folks headed?” its driver said as he opened the door for them; he had white hair and a matching, closely-trimmed beard, and was dressed in jeans and a red sweater.

Neal paused, taken aback by the guy’s appearance. He smiled. “New York. Our car broke down and we really need to get home for the holidays.”

“You hear that, Mama? They’ve got to get home for the holidays!” The trucker had turned to speak to someone in the cab’s rear seating area, and a woman about his age stuck her head up between the seats and smiled at them, her blue eyes crinkling at the edges, exuding a friendly warmth. Neal noticed she had her dark, greying hair pulled into a bun that was secured with a pair of hair sticks, and a green, hand-knit sweater with a Christmas tree across the chest, tiny applique presents and ornaments attached to it.

“Oh, my dears, well! I suppose we could take them as far as Toledo, yes, Papa?” she declared.

The man laughed jovially in agreement. “I don’t see why not! Hop on in, kids, me and the missus are always up for some comp’ny.”

Neal looked at Diana with a questioning look. _What do you think?_ he asked with his eyes.

_They don’t_ look _like serial killers,_ Diana’s eyes replied.

_You think we should take the ride?_ Neal's raised eyebrow communicated.

_I don’t see anyone else offering,_ her diffident shrug answered.

“All righty, then,” Neal said as cheerfully as he could muster, and helped Diana into the cab of the big rig. 

\----

“So this is your life, then?” Diana was asking. “Hauling cargo across the country?”

“Uh-huh, you betcha,” their hostess, Mae, replied with an enthusiastic smile. Both women sat in the rear seat of the cab of the 18-wheeler, with Neal and Mae’s husband George in the front. “George retired from bein’ a pharmacist about, what was it, hon, six year ago?”

“Going’ on seven now, Mama,” George answered, tilting his head back and eyeing his wife lovingly. Neal thought they were absolutely adorable, and kind of wished they were his parents.

“My goo’ness, how time does fly. Anyhoo, when we lost the house because of the gamblin’, we bought this old rig, and this has been our life ever since.”

“That sounds…” Neal was going to say “romantic,” but then her words caught in his mind. _Gambling?_

“Wait, you lost your house…?” Diana said.

“Oh, yah, I’m afraid I was addicted to the Keno, don’tcha know. It was just terrible.”

“She’s a degenerate gambler,” George said good-naturedly, and Mae beamed at him.

“That’s… um… OK… uh,” Neal said lamely, and stared out of the window biting his lip, wishing he could see Diana’s face. 

They drove on in silence for several more minutes until George spoke up again. “So how long you two kids been married?”

“Oh, we’re –“ Neal began, but Diana interrupted him. “Just over a year,” she said.

“Oh, my stars, newlyweds! That’s just wunnerful. Isn’t that wunnerful, George?”

“It’s wunnerful!”

“Oh look, we’ll be in Toledo in 9 miles,” Neal pointed out. 

“Terrific town, Toledo,” George said. “You know, they have the Strawberry festival in May, and o’ course, there’s the zoo. Mae loves the giraffes, don’t ya, Mama?”

“You know it! I think they’re so darling. The little ones are so cute with their long legs. And they’re randy little buggers, too! Do you know a male will service up to fourteen females in the wild?”

“I did not… that’s… so… interesting?” Diana said while Neal covered his mouth with a hand.

“And the male’s cock is as long as your arm, uh-huh. It’s fascinatin’. Isn’t it fascinatin’, George?”

“It’s fascinatin’!”

“Oh, I could watch those bastards screw for hours,” Mae said wistfully while Neal tried not to snort up a lung.

“Lookie there, we’re comin’ up on the exit for the motel, now!” George pointed out. He pulled off the highway and maneuvered the big rig into the nearby service road. Neal saw a new-looking chain motel with two restaurants adjacent. 

“George, Mae,” he said, pulling on his coat again, “we really can’t thank you enough for all your kindness.”

“’Twas our pleasure, young man.”

“I wish we could repay you,” Diana said. “Will you take some money for gas?”

“Oh no, no, yer money’s no good here, missy. Although…” Mae said with a speculative look on her face. 

“Yes?” Neal said expectantly.

“I don’t suppose you nice folks… _swing_ , do ya?”

Neal, having turned in his seat so he could address both Mae and George before they took their leave, had the opportunity to watch the expressions play over Diana’s face as she went from shock to outrage to embarrassment in quick succession. His only regret was that he didn’t have his phone out to record it. “That’s… a kind offer, Mae,” Neal replied slowly. “But I’m afraid the little woman is the jealous type.”

“That’s right,” Diana gulped out, recovering. “If my husband so much as _looks_ at another woman, I just go insane.”

“Oh, well, dear, I don’t think you’ll have to worry much about that one, he seems like the faithful type.”

“Thanks, Mae,” Neal said warmly.

“Besides, if he steps out on ya, all ya have to do is cut his left nut off with a carving knife, in’t that right, Papa?”

“Kept _me_ in line!” George replied with a cheerful chuckle. 

“OK! So! Gosh, honey, you look reeeeeally tired - should we get a room for the night?” Neal said uncomfortably as Diana stifled a laugh.

They gathered their things and Neal jumped out of the cab, then helped Diana out. They stood at the side of the road, with their arms around each other and waved at their former hosts as they drove off with a big honk of the truck’s airhorn.

“All right, _honey_ , you can take your arm off me,” Diana muttered, hoisting her carry-on bag over her shoulder.

“Hey, I’m not the one that married us off – whatever compelled you to say that, anyway?”

“Well what else was I going to say to Mr. and Mrs. Claus at the time? That I’m a lesbian FBI agent and you’re a convicted felon on work release? Did I know they were freaky-deaky?”

“I suppose it’s better they didn’t know you have handcuffs on you,” Neal allowed, and led the way to the motel’s entrance.

 

**Sunday, December 23**

“Diana!” Neal called to her from across the hotel lobby, where he stood at the complementary coffee station, fixing a cup. She came over and looked him up and down, as odd expression on her face. “What?”

“Nothing, just – how is it that you look perfectly pulled together and I look like something the cat dragged in? Neither of us has our luggage.”

Neal looked at her appraisingly; she did, indeed, look much less put-together than usual, with her hair pulled into a haphazard ponytail, but with her nearly make-up-free face, and her clear eyes, she looked remarkably well-rested. “Some of us just have it,” he quipped, and handed her the coffee he’d prepared for her. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d say some of us actually got ‘it’. What have you been up to, young lady?”

She blushed prettily. “Christy and I had a talk last night. A looong talk.” She left it at that, sipping her coffee, and Neal smiled. “I’m still not happy I’m going to miss her, but at least we got to spend some time together. Have you had a chance to look into busses to New York?”

“Actually, I’ve gone one better. I want you to meet someone.” Neal led her over to a knot of about a dozen young people who were talking and laughing in one corner of the lobby. He smiled as he approached – most of them wore jokey felt antlers on their heads, and the effect was adorable. Nearby, a group of three adults, obviously their parents or chaperones, chatted amiably. One of them, a short, plump woman in her 50’s with bright eyes and a perpetual smile, came over to meet them. “Diana, may I introduce you to Mrs. Reaser, the choir director for the Monroeville Minstrels, who are here in town for a competition.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Mrs. Reaser said, extending a hand that Diana shook. 

Diana looked from Neal to the woman uncomprehendingly. “They’re on their way home this morning in the bus parked just out front, and they’ve agreed to drop us off in Pittsburgh. Where the Amtrak station is,” he explained, his tone leading.

“Oh!” Diana said, comprehension dawning. “That’s nice… Caffrey, can I have a word?” she said, drawing him aside. “You did _not_ just con these lovely people into giving us a ride?!” she hissed in a voice only he could hear.

Neal was affronted. “I would do no such thing,” he said honestly, hand over his heart. “They overheard me talking with the woman at the front desk about trying to find our way home, and when I mentioned I was traveling with a Federal agent, well, they offered to give us a ride.”

Diana’s scowl lessened, but she still looked unconvinced. “Are there no train stations in Toledo?”

“There are, but there are no seats available on any of the outgoing trains today. I figured we’d have better luck in Pittsburgh, so I accepted their kind offer. Look, they were the ones who brought it up, not me.”

“I’m sure.”

“I may have laid it on a bit thick, however. If asked, you have two adorable twin daughters who look forward to being with both their mommies on Christmas Eve.”

“Jesus, Caffrey!” Diana said, smacking him on the arm. And how come the Federal agent shtick works for you and not me?”

“Guess I just have the knack for it,” he said, polishing his nails on his lapel, and she smacked him again.

\----

**Peter Burke:** Where are you now?  
 **Me:** Just leaving Toledo.  
 **Peter Burke:** Ohio?  
 **Me:** The Glass Capital of the World  
 **Peter Burke:** Really?  
 **Me:** That’s what the signs say. Anyway, we got here by hook AND by crook, if you don’t mind the cliché   
**Peter Burke:** As long as it stays a cliché, Mr. Crook.  
 **Me:** You wound me.  
 **Peter Burke:** When do you think you’ll get here?  
 **Me:** With luck, late tonight.  
 **Peter Burke:** And without luck?  
 **Me:** Tomorrow afternoon?  
 **Peter Burke:** That’s good – El’s getting worried you won’t make it.

Neal paused in tapping out his response to Peter’s text to think about the meaning of that sentence. Elizabeth wanted him there; even a day later, the thought made him happy.

**Me:** Tell her I’ll move heaven and earth to be there.  
 **Peter Burke:** Legally?  
 **Me:** Ha-ha

“Mister Caffrey?”

Neal looked up from his phone to find a pair of teenaged girls kneeling on the bus seats in front of him, facing the back of the bus, plastic holly bobbing comically from their toy antlers. The blonde on the left was the one who’d spoken. “Yes?”

“Is it true you’re an FBI agent?”  
“Have you arrested any bad guys?”  
“Have you ever shot anyone?”  
“Have you ever _been_ shot?”  
“Did it hurt?”

They both asked their questions in rapid succession, and Neal felt like he was watching a tennis match, the way he looked from one to the other as they did. He pointed at each as he answered their respective questions.

“No, I’m a consultant.”  
“Not personally.”  
“Yes, but he deserved it.”  
“Yes, and I didn’t.”  
“And, yes, but I was wearing a bullet-proof vest at the time.”

“Wowwww!” They each breathed, eyes shining. 

“Believe me, there’s nothing to be wowed by. Also: Stay in school,” Neal felt compelled to add. He dashed off a quick text to Peter to end their conversation and then looked up. “So, you guys were in Toledo for a choir competition? Like in Glee?”

They both rolled their eyes. 

“It’s _so_ not like that.”  
“For one thing, we don’t dance so much.”  
“Yeah, and there are totes not as many hot guys involved.”  
“Gay _or_ straight.”  
“Yeah, and we have to practice a _lot more_.”  
“None of that throwing together a major number every darn week.”  
“And our costumes are nicer.”

“Yeeeeah,” they both said as they finished, and Neal tried not to let his head spin.

“Did you win?”

“We came in third,” the redhead on the right said with a frown. 

“I’m Sinndee, by the way,” said the blonde, extending a small hand for Neal to shake.

“Glad to meet you, Cindy.”

“Sinndee,” she corrected and Neal cocked his head.

“And I’m Cynddee,” said the redhead.

“Kinsey?”

“Cynddee. It’s Celtic.”

“Of course it is. You can call me Neal.”

“Hi, Neal,” they said in unison.

“Mrs. Reaser said you’re from New York.”  
“How exciting – is it nice there?”  
“Or is it dirty? My Mom says it always smells like pee.”  
“That doesn’t sound nice. Not as nice as Monroeville.”  
“You’re dreamy.”  
“Yeeeeah.”

“Yes, I’m from New York.”  
“It is very nice there.”  
“It’s true sometimes, unfortunately, but that is a fact in all large cities.”  
“I imagine Monroeville is very nice – I hope to visit it someday.”  
“And, um, thank you?”

Neal sighed; this conversation was exhausting. “So, you guys feel like singing something?”

\----

Neal walked carefully up the aisle of the chartered bus, to the seat towards the front where Diana sat with the moms and teachers that were along with the choir as chaperones. She sat hunched over her phone, flipping through pictures of her and Christy with a longing expression on her face. “Hey, Di,” he called.

“Yeah, Caffrey?”

“You look like you need cheering up.”

“Do I look like I _want_ cheering up?”

“You look like you won’t shoot me for doing this in front of two dozen witnesses,” he said hopefully and she shook her head.

“What do you want?”

“Well, I may have mentioned how you were bummed out and missing being home, so the kids and I worked up a few numbers to pass the time. This one’s for you.”

Diana settled with her back against the seat in front of her as the other adults also shifted around to see what the kids had come up with.

At the back of the bus, two of the boys began making noises with their mouths and hands, delivering a fair human beatbox performance. In the rows in between, suddenly, kids would pop up and sing a line or two of the song while Neal looked on with pride. 

_You never make me stay_  
So take your weight off of me  
I know your every move  
So won't you just let me be  
I've been here times before  
But I was too blind to see  
That you seduce every man  
This time you won't seduce me 

“You know there are other songs that include the name Diana, Caffrey,” Diana pointed out as the kids continued to the second verse.

_She's saying that's okay_  
Hey baby do what you please  
I have the stuff that you want  
I am the thing that you need  
She looked me deep in the eyes  
She's touchin' me so to start  
She says there's no turnin' back  
She trapped me in her heart 

“Yeah, but this one’s the only one they knew,” Neal said as the chorus began. Then he jumped into the aisle and began to moonwalk to the back of the bus, while singing at the top of his voice,

_Dirty Diana, no  
Dirty Diana, no  
Dirty Diana, no  
Dirty Diana  
Let me be!_”

“Nice,” Diana said, arms folded across her chest, “I’m a skanky groupie now?”

Neal shrugged from where he stood, but suddenly the boys in the back began a doo-wop in perfect harmony, many of the girls joining in and clapping in time. Neal got to one knee and started to sing earnestly,

“ _I'm so young and you're so old  
This, my darling, I've been told  
I don't care just what they say  
'Cause forever I will pray  
You and I will be as free  
As the birds up in the trees  
Oh, please stay by me, Diana!_”

“So I’m the perv into younger guys now?” Diana said, but Neal could see a twinkle in her eyes, and it made him smile. He sang the next verse while making his way up the aisle, dancing a two-step with a few of the girls that weren’t harmonizing,

“ _Thrills I get when you hold me close  
Oh, my darling, you're the most  
I love you but do you love me  
Oh, Diana, can't you see  
I love you with all my heart  
And I hope we will never part  
Oh, please stay with me, Diana!_”

He again got down on one knee in front of Diana when he sang the last line, and the other adults began to applaud.

“Very nice,” Diana said with a laugh. She raised an eyebrow, a challenge in her eyes. “You got an encore?”

“Do I?” he said with a grin, and gestured for the kids to join them at the front. They all began to clap and stomp their feet in a staccato rhythm. Then Neal began to sing,

“ _Little ditty about Neal and Diana  
Two American kids travelin’ across the heartland.  
Nealy’s gonna get them home in time for Christmas  
Or Diana’ll pop a cap in his ass, leave no witness_”

He grinned as Diana laughed out loud. “You know it!” she said as Neal continued.

“ _Stranded in a motel out on the Interstate  
Caught a ride with the Minstrels   
Hey, these kids are really great.   
Nealy say “Hey Diana lets get a ride   
Back to the Empire State  
Get me home to my best friends   
And you to your soul mate   
And Nealy say,_”

At this, all the kids and their chaperones as well, joined in on the chorus,

“ _Oh yeah life goes on  
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone  
Oh yeah, they say life goes on  
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone!_”

Diana applauded as they finished. 

“Merry Christmas, Di,” Neal said, breathing heavily, when she stopped. 

“Thank you. Thank you, everybody. I can’t believe you all came in third – what was wrong with those judges?” 

All the kids migrated back to their seats, chattering happily, and Neal settled down next to Diana and rolled his sleeves back down. She leaned over and slipped her arm through his, then kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, that really did cheer me up.”

“You looked like you needed it. Plus, those kids were going to question me to death unless I gave them a project. Seriously, FBI interrogation techniques have got nothing on a pair of teenaged girls.”

“You really are amazing, Neal.”

“Come on.”

“No, I’m serious. All this crap that keeps happening to us, and you just face it with a smile – how do you manage it?”

He thought a moment before answering, “When you’ve lived the kind of life I have – sometimes not knowing where you’ll wind up at any given time – you kind of get the knack for making the best of the things you can get. I don’t let things get me down because I refuse to; if I do, I might not get up in the mornings.”

“I don’t think I could look at it that way,” she said seriously. “Sounds too much like denial.”

“Or optimism?” he offered. 

She had no response, but she hugged his arm all the way into Pittsburgh.

\----

“You want the good news or bad news first?” Neal asked, looking up from his phone. They were in a Starbucks in Pittsburgh, having bid the Monroeville Minstrels farewell, and Diana set a non-fat latte down in front of him. 

“Good?”

“We have a hotel room for tonight.”

“Aw man! I guess we couldn’t get a train reservation?”

Neal shook his head. “Not for today. Got one for tomorrow, though – feel like getting up to make a 4:50 am departure?”

Diana flinched. “Do I have any choice?”

Neal gave her a _yeah, right?_ expression and held his phone up again. “Listen, I’m going to check in with Peter – let him know what’s up, OK?” She nodded and he went to find a quiet spot.

“Hello?”

Neal glanced down at his phone to be sure he’d dialed the right number. “Elizabeth?”

“Peter’s outside shoveling. Where are you guys?”

“In Pittsburgh. Shoveling?”

“Just a little snowstorm – we only got a couple inches – didn’t you hear?”

“We’ve been a little off the grid out here.”

“In the wilds of western Pennsylvania?” she laughed, and Neal let the warm sound wash over him.

“Something like that. We’ve got a train in the morning – should be at Penn around 2:00 if everything goes well.”

“Well, you’ll be coming home to a white Christmas.”

Neal irrationally assigned the word “home” too much meaning and suddenly ached for the warmth of the Burke living room, imagining a fire lit on the hearth, and giant mugs of steaming tea or hot cocoa with gingerbread men on the side sitting on the coffee table. He shook his head, feeling silly. “Sounds great.”

“I even got you a stocking,” Elizabeth said, “Hung it right next to mine. You should see it – it’s a lovely tartan.” 

Neal suddenly, desperately, wanted nothing more. “Sounds great. So I just wanted to tell you guys what the plan was, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, OK?”

“Can’t wait! It’ll be the best Christmas ever!”

Neal still hoped so.

\----

At least the hotel he’d found them was higher-end and comfortable. They sat drinking hot cider for a couple hours before deciding to grab an early dinner.

“Hey, dinner’s on me, OK?” Diana said as they were shown to their table.

“Diana,” Neal began to protest, but she cut him off.

“Consider it part of your Christmas present. Besides, I want to thank you for what you did today – it meant a lot, even if you will never get me to admit it after today.”

Neal's grin matched Diana’s. “Very well. I hope they have good wine here.”

It turned out they did; the hotel’s restaurant was surprisingly good, with a prix fixe menu that was worth every penny; Neal couldn’t stop raving, right up through the sublimely delicious apple and cranberry crostata he enjoyed for his dessert, not to mention the three-berry bread pudding of Diana’s that he also managed to finish. “You sure you don’t want it?”

“Positive – I’m suddenly not in the mood for it – too rich, I guess.” She sipped at the oolong tea she’d ordered, her brow furrowing, a hand on her stomach as if she weren’t feeling well.

Before they got the check, she was visibly wilting at the table, and by the time they got on the elevator, she was definitely listing slightly to starboard, and Neal was worried. “Something’s wrong,” he stated, hands up and ready to fuss over her, but not sure how the gesture would be received.

“I don’t feel so well,” she confirmed, her voice tired, weak. Neal let her sag against him, then hit the “Door Close” button when they reached his floor and held onto her until they reached the 12th floor. 

“Come on, I’ve got ya,” he encouraged as he helped her down the hall, her legs suddenly barely able to hold her up. She fumbled in her jacket pocket and produced her key card, and he took it from her, opening the door and helping her through. 

“Oh no,” she mumbled, and tore herself away from his arms, barely making it in time before she lost her dinner in the toilet. 

Neal retrieved the complementary bottle of spring water from atop the mini-fridge and set it on the edge of the sink, then wet two washcloths and stood in the doorway of the small bathroom. “You OK? Is there more?”

“God, I don’t even know,” Diana moaned, flushing the toilet before settling down on her hip on the floor and laying her head on the toilet seat. 

He stepped in closer and opened the bottle of water for her, watching as she swirled it in her mouth and spit it out in the toilet, then take a short pull at it. When he crouched down to settle one of the washcloths on her forehead, he noticed a thin sheen of sweat on her face. He felt her forehead with the back of his hand instead. “You’re burning up. Come on, get up, we need to get you into bed.”

“I think I might like it here just fine, if you bring me a pillow.”

“But I don’t think I like you in here,” he said with a frown. “Come on, upsy-daisy.” He took her elbow. 

“Did you just say, ‘upsy-daisy’?”

“What? It’s a word.” 

He helped her to her feet and when her legs gave out, lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. The fact she didn’t protest at all ratcheted up his worry a notch. He set her down and helped her off with her shoes, suit pants and jacket, muttering, “I _swear_ I’m not looking at _anything_ ,” then pulled the covers back and settled her under them. By the time he’d hung up her clothes and returned to the bed with the ice bucket in case she needed to vomit again, she was curled up on her side and shivering. He grabbed the spare blanket from the shelf in the closet, doubled it up and set it on top of her.

“I don’t th-think this is food p-poisoning,” she managed through gritted teeth.

“Me neither,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pushing the sweaty hair off her face. “You want some more water?” she shook her head. “Think you might be able to sleep?” She shook her head again. 

“You can go back to your room if you want,” she said. “I’ll be f-fine.”

“I don’t think you should be alone, but I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He nodded.

\----

“Feel like watching some TV?” Neal sat on top of Diana’s bed, propped up on a few pillows. After a few more bouts of vomiting, she had finally settled, exhausted, and lay curled up against him, her sweaty head resting on a pillow against his hip. “I’m sure ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ is on _somewhere_.”

“Nah,” she said, her voice weak and scratchy. 

“Talk to me, then. What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I was going to head up to Connecticut to see my folks. You should see their house – it looks like a freaking Hallmark card this time of year, all decked out with wreaths and twinkly lights. Very tasteful, though – very Greenwich. How ‘bout you? You’ve got plans with Peter and Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, they invited me to come tomorrow night, stay through the holiday.”

“Sounds nice. You looking forward to it?”

“Maybe a little too much,” Neal admitted after a moment’s thought. “This is the first Christmas I’ve looked forward to in a long time.” He shuddered, trying to dispel memories of Christmases in prison, when they’d be allowed an extra hour in the yard, and pre-formed turkey loaf for dinner. “When I was a kid, it was this magical thing, Christmas, you know? When did that stop happening?”

“I think about the time we start focusing too much on shopping and rushing around and forget about the reasons we’re doing it,” Diana said. “The people we’re doing it for.”

Neal looked down and met her eyes. “Is this Diana Berrigan, sentimentalist?”

“Shut up, Caffrey.”

 

**Monday, December 24**

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

Neal fumbled desperately for his phone to stop the alarm he’d set the night before, and glanced down apprehensively at Diana. She stirred, but did not wake, and for that he was glad.

Her fever had broken only two hours ago, and they’d both finally passed out, but she still looked pale and unhappy even as she slept, and he reasoned she needed the rest as he pulled the extra blanket over himself and hunched down into the pillows some more. 

So they’d miss their train – there were more important things. He’d figure out another way once the sun was up. It’s what he did.

\----

Neal knocked lightly on Diana’s door before using the keycard. “You decent?” he called as he opened the door a crack.

“Come in,” she called. He found her sitting sat up in the bed, looking at him with eyes that were tired, but no longer had that sickly glaze to them from the night before. “What time is it?”

“10:30.”

“We missed our train! Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I couldn’t bear to – you didn’t see yourself. You’re not seeing yourself now.”

Her eyes flicked over to the large mirror that was affixed to the wall opposite the bed and she winced. Her hair was matted to one side of her head, and her face was wrinkled from the pillow. “Jesus. Did I die and you forgot to tell me?”

Neal smiled. “Well, hopefully this’ll make you feel a little better.” He set a cardboard tray with a cup of tea and a toasted bagel down beside her on the bed. “A little something in your stomach is probably a good thing.” 

She grimaced, but took up the cup and opened the lid. “Aw, you got me lemon and everything.”

“And there’s honey in the bag,” he pointed out. Then he went back and brought in the bags he’d been carrying when he arrived.

“You found a Target?” she said, setting her tea down on the nightstand and taking the bags from him.

“Well, I figured both of us could use a change of clothes. I hope you don’t mind, I peeked inside your suit to get your size.” 

She shrugged as she started rooting through the bags. “You got me lacy pink panties?” she asked, holding up the dark salmon-colored item in question and letting it dangle from a finger.

Neal couldn’t stop the blush creeping into his cheeks. “They matched the bra,” he pointed out.

“Ah ha. And what’s this?” she held up an oversized – for her – fuzzy white sweater with a hood that was so soft, Neal had nearly been unable to stop touching it as he made his way through the store. 

“It looked snuggly. And I got you yoga pants, because I thought you ought to, you know, be comfortable on the way home... since you’re sick and all,” he finished lamely.

“And all this?” she held up a bag nearly overflowing with cosmetics and toiletries. 

“I wasn’t sure what make-up would suit your skin tone, so I, um, got it all. And, well, um, the honeysuckle body wash is… because I liked the way it smells.”

She grinned her appreciation. “Caffrey, if you had a vagina, I’d marry you.”

“A high compliment, indeed,” he replied, feeling happy to have made her happy. 

“And wait, what’s this?” She pulled out a snow globe with a winter scene inside – a white colonial house with a picket fence around it, a snowman and a Christmas tree in the front yard. She shook it idly, watching the white flakes float around inside.

“It reminded me of your folks’ house. I thought you’d like it.” And now he was really blushing. “So anyway, do you think you’re OK to get a shower? Do you feel up to being on your feet?” 

“I think so.”

“Well, take your time – I’m going to go to my room and shower, and then take care of a little business. Meet me in the lobby – check-out’s at noon.”

“Sure.” He turned to go. “Neal?” she called and he turned around. “Thanks for this. You’re a good friend, you know that?” 

He smiled back. _He knew that._

\----

Diana made it downstairs to the lobby with fifteen minutes to spare, and Neal rushed over to take her bags from her. “There she is, all bright-eyed.”

“We’ll reserve judgment on the bushy-tailed,” she said, and Neal had to agree – she still looked pale. 

“So tell me what ‘business’ it was you had this morning, 400 miles from home?” she said, her eyebrow raised. “And before you protest, no, I don’t assume it was shady. Did you get us on another train, maybe?”

“Better. I got us a car,” he answered, and then escorted her to the hotel entrance. “Your chariot, madam,” he said with a flourish, indicating the car parked at the curb.

“Oh my – I don’t even – words are –“ Diana stuttered, and then stood there, open-mouthed. This time, Neal really did have his phone ready to get a photo of her reaction. She glared at him, and then her mouth quirked to the side. “Did a big, feathered hat come with that?” she asked wryly, and he laughed.

[ The Lincoln Continental ](http://www.allchromedout.com/pimped-out-cars/custom-cool-car-pictures.jpg) was an eye-searingly bright shade of yellowish-green, the hubcaps so shiny sunglasses may have been required to look at them in direct sunlight, and it was about the length of most boats.

“I guess you’d have no problems keeping your pimp-hand strong with that, eh?” Diana continued, beginning to laugh. Neal made a get-on-with-it gesture. “Wait, no, wait,” she said, tears in her eyes now. “Do I have to call you Huggy Bear now?” Then she dissolved in giggles, and Neal had serious concerns for her health.

“You done?” he asked at length. 

“Yes. No. Yes. I’ll come up with more. Where did you _get_ this monstrosity?”

“I bought it.”

“You…” And then she was laughing again, but he pulled out the pink slip to prove it. 

“I had Moz wire me the money. I thought if we were going to get home, we’d be better off doing it under our own steam. And besides,” he sidled up to her and snaked an arm around her shoulders, “I knew you’d want to get home in styyyyle,” he drawled, deepening his voice to a sexy tone. She giggled again, and he walked over to open the passenger door for her. 

\----

“Does this road end? I don’t think it ends,” Neal muttered, not for the first time since they got onto the Pennsylvania Turnpike. 

“It has to end – we’re heading east. There will be an ocean.”

“Crap.”

“What?”

“It’s starting to snow.”

“Crap. Guess we should listen to the radio for the weather report.” Diana began to fiddle with the old-fashioned dials and buttons. “Do you think this thing picks up 21st century broadcasts, or will we be listening to Wolfman Jack, circa 1979?”

“Hardy har-har,” Neal said, but then listened carefully as she found a weather forecast.

“ _Your Christmas Eve forecast: Cloudy and cold, with intermittent snow showers, could be heavy at times. Expected accumulations of six to twelve inches in the higher elevations. Road conditions are expected to be treacherous. Here’s Katy with your Harrisburg Eye on Traffic…_ ” 

“Crap,” they both said in unison.

\----

“Ooo! Welcome to New Jersey! Hello, Garden State, it’s nice to see you again.” Diana bounced up and down in her seat and popped another candy into her mouth. 

Neal grinned at Diana, who had become punchier the longer their trip became. “You OK over there?”

“I’m high on marshmallow Peeps and Diet Coke! Wheee! Want some?”

“I think you’ve had enough for both of us.”

The snow fall was dry and powdery, so driving conditions weren’t all that difficult, but it was becoming heavier the farther east they drove, along with the traffic. 

“What are the odds we make it home while it’s still Christmas Eve?” Neal asked, glancing at his watch – it was already past 8:00 and they hadn’t even passed Newark yet.

“I guess it depends on the weather,” she said, watching him. “You _really_ want to make it to Peter’s for Christmas – I’ve never seen this side of you. Why so set on it?”

He felt his face coloring, and thought it was a good thing it was dark outside their car and she wouldn’t be able to see it. “It’s irrational, I know,” he admitted. “But I feel like, especially after all that’s happened to me this year, I’m lucky to have found... this _thing_ , this unnameable thing – acceptance? Inclusion?” He shook his head, at a loss for words for the feelings that Peter and Elizabeth’s invitation had given him. 

“Family,” Diana said simply.

“What?”

“They’re your family, and they love you. Have you really not had that before?” 

“I don’t…” Neal's words trailed off as he thought long and hard over recent years, and though he certainly had people he loved, and who made him feel loved, there was an intangible sense of _belonging_ that had been missing. He never had it with Kate, and he certainly didn’t get it when he was in prison. If he thought long enough about it, he was probably a very small boy the last time he could remember feeling like he was a part of a family. “No,” he finally admitted sadly.

“Not ever?” When he didn’t answer, she slid over on the front seat and slid her hand into the crook of his arm as he drove. “Well, you do now,” she said quietly, kissing him on the cheek. 

“Thanks, Di,” he said around the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Who better than me to fill the role of annoying little sister?” she said archly.

“As long as you don’t arrest me for assaulting a Federal agent when I give you a noogie.”

“Deal.”

\----

“Di? Hey, Di.”

“Whuh? Hmmf.”

“C’mon, we’re at your house, we made it.” Neal gently prodded the warm head resting against his hip; she’d long ago curled up on the bench seat at the front of the old car, covered herself with Neal's coat, and fallen asleep.

“Really?” She sat up, looking out of the windows bleary-eyed. “What time is it?”

“11:00.”

“Still Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah,” Neal said, feeling dubious as he looked outside too. The snow was falling thickly in New York, and he still had to get to his house to pick up presents, then head downtown and across the bridge into Brooklyn. “You sure you want me to leave you here? I’m worried you’ll have a relapse or something.”

“While I rather surprisingly wouldn’t mind having you around to hold my hair back for me, I’ll be just fine. But if you don’t mind, I might have to ask you to take care of me the next time I’m sick. Big bro.”

Neal smiled.

“Now, let me get out of here so you can get to Peter and Elizabeth’s.”

Neal frowned. “I don’t even know if I should go over there, I mean it’s late, I’m not exactly packed. Their presents are back at my house – no, I’ll head across town to June’s and go over in the morning.”

“You sure? Cuz if there’s anyone who needs the full-on Christmas this year, it’s you.”

“I’m sure. Now, let me help you get your stuff upstairs.”

\----

“Hi, Peter.”

“Hey, buddy! Where are you guys now?”

_Where is he? Where is he?_ Neal could hear Elizabeth bugging Peter at their end of the call, so Peter put the phone on speaker.

“I just saw Diana to her door. Listen, I don’t think I’m going to make it over tonight – it’s awfully late.”

“Pshaw!” Elizabeth said. 

“Did you just say, ‘pshaw?’”

“What? It’s a word. Come on, sweetie, we want you here for Christmas Eve.”

“What’s left of it.”

“It’s Christmas Eve until I say it isn’t,” she declared. “We haven’t even busted out the nog yet.”

“I don’t have any of my things, or presents, or anything,” Neal felt his resolve cracking – all it needed was another push.

“Neal, I am ordering you to get here, on the double,” Peter said in a tone that told Neal that they had, in fact, long ago broken out the nog. 

And that was all he needed – the idea of a slightly inebriated Peter, a fussily mothering Elizabeth, and a glass of something alcoholic was too strong to resist. 

“And did Peter mention the Christmas jammies?” Elizabeth asked, and Neal laughed.

“OK, OK, you’ve worn me down – I’ll be there in 20 to a hundred thousand minutes, either of which is probable when you consider my luck with travel the last couple days.”

“We’ll be waiting. Drive safe, honey,” Elizabeth said, and if any other phrase in the English language conveyed more love and warmth to him in that moment, he couldn’t think of it.

\----

“No. Nononono! Ah, shit!” Neal beat his fists against the steering wheel as the car made a gurgling sound and skidded to a halt on the approach to the bridge. He rested his head on the steering wheel, over-compensated, and hit the horn instead, making him jump. “Shit.” 

He popped the hood, got out, slid to the front of the car in the snow, opened the hood, stared at the engine and wailed in frustration, “I don’t know anything about cars!” He closed the hood with a bang and set his hands on his hips. “What have I done to deserve this? I mean really?” he asked the heavens in general, but then thought better of it. “Never mind,” he said up towards the sky and blinked as the snowflakes that were still falling landed in his eyes. He turned and leaned back against the side of the car dejectedly, burying his face in his hands. 

So much for a happy Christmas, so much for his dream of family and warmth and love. And for making the best of things – maybe it really was just a sort of sad denial, like Diana said. He suddenly, irrationally, decided he no longer needed any of it, and a small part, the part of himself he didn’t like to admit existed, thought that maybe he deserved not to have it.

Weren’t the subways still running? He’d hop on a train, head up to June’s before the Marshalls noticed he was out of bounds, nuke a frozen potpie and have the most pathetic night of his life. He was just grabbing his keys from the car, when the flashing yellow of a tow truck caught his eye. 

“That your car?” asked the man behind the wheel. 

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll tow it,” he replied cheerfully.

“And what if I say yes?”

“Then I’ll tow it where you want it.”

Neal had to laugh at that. “Then it’s mine. And I’m having a really shitty night, so if you can tow it where I want it, it would only be marginally less shitty.”

“Well, that’s my job, you know – delivering less shitty nights to all races and creeds. Let me just position my rig, and we’ll get you on your way.”

Neal stepped out of the way and watched as the man deftly maneuvered the tow truck in front of the car within seconds. Then he opened the door and hopped down, and Neal stared at him, astonished. 

“Hi, I’m Kyle,” the man said, peering up through the still-falling snow at him. “Yes, I’m a little person.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kyle. I’m Neal,” Neal said, extending a hand. Kyle shook it briskly, then set about hooking the car up to the truck. “This is some sweet ride,” he commented as he worked. “Look at those rims – wow! They custom? They look custom.”

Neal shrugged. “I don’t even know how to answer that,” Neal said. “I just bought the thing this morning. I needed to get home from Pittsburgh, to get home for Christmas, and this was the one I could afford.”

“Well, I hope you got a good deal,” Kyle said, finished hooking up the tow chain and walking briskly over to the driver’s seat. He put the transmission into neutral and looked up at Neal with a raised eyebrow. “I think I see your problem.”

“Already?”

“You’re out of gas. When the gauge is on ‘E’ that usually means you need to put more in.” 

Despite his words, Kyle’s tone was friendly and joshing, and Neal just laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s been a while since I drove a car.”

“It’ll come back to you. Now, where can I take you, Neal?”

 

**Tuesday, December 25**

“So let me get this straight – it took you three days to get here from _Chicago_?” Kyle was incredulous.

“If I didn’t just live through it, I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“And along the way, you met a horny, swinging Santa Clause…”

“A horny, swinging, uni-testicled Santa,” Neal corrected.

Kyle laughed. “Right. A gaggle of teenagers in reindeer antlers…”

“Who sang in perfect, three-part harmony.”

“And finally had to buy your own sleigh to get yourself home.”

“Almost home.”

“Almost home. Well, now you can tell your family an elf got you there,” Kyle said with a laugh and opened the door of the truck. “Because here you are!”

Neal looked over to realize Kyle had brought him right to the Burkes’ front door. He blinked in astonishment. The fact the lights were blazing inside at this hour filled him with warmth yet again, and suddenly all his doubts and the long road getting here no longer mattered.

Getting out of the truck’s cab, he jumped into the soft snow with a smile on his face. He bent down and picked up a handful – too dry for snowmen, but it’d make great snow angels in the morning. He looked forward to taking Satch for a long walk in it.

Turning around, he was amazed to see that Kyle had already finished unhooking the car and had climbed back into the tow truck. “Wait,” Neal called, reaching for his wallet. “How much do I owe you for the tow?”

“Nothing,” Kyle told him. “Consider it your Christmas miracle – everybody gets one.”

“Kyle, I – “ he was going to protest further, but relented. “Thank you.”

“You can repay me by selling me that sweet ride at a good price.”

Neal looked at the thing wryly – he had no use for it. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem with that.”

“Good – I already left you my card on the front seat. Merry Christmas, Neal.”

“Merry Christmas.”

\----

_DING-DONG_

Neal leaned against the doorframe of Peter and Elizabeth’s house, kind of shellshocked, kind of feeling like he wasn’t really there – had he finally arrived? When the door opened, and warm, golden light from inside flooded over him, all his doubts left him and he straightened, a huge grin on his face. 

“There he is!” Peter said, pulling him inside with a laugh and a slap on the back. 

“Oh, sweetie, you made it at last!” Elizabeth said, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You must be exhausted, let me…” Peter took Neal's overnight bag from his shoulder and set it on the floor. “Come on in – we’re only on our second viewing of ‘A Christmas Story.’ Can I get you a drink?” Peter moved off to get it without waiting for an answer.

“Here, let me take your coat,” Elizabeth said, and Neal let her tug it from his shoulders. “Oh, honey, you’re soaked – is it still snowing? Satch’ll have a good time later!”

“Here you go,” Peter said, pressing a warm mug of what smelled like mulled wine into Neal's hands. “Now you can tell us all about the trip. Neal? Something wrong, buddy?”

Neal blinked, not so much overwhelmed by all the attention as taking it all in. “No,” he said finally. “Nothing’s wrong – I’m home.”

\----

Merry Christmas and thank you for your time.

**Author's Note:**

> * Title is an entirely too corny lyric from the song, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” written by Kim Gannon and Walter Kent.   
> * I wrote this largely on Dec 22 & 23, so I was learning of the unavailability of seats on the trains for Neal and Diana as they did. Verisimilitude! Or something…  
> * The songs! “Dirty Diana” by Michael Jackson, “Diana” by Paul Anka, and, last but not least, Neal butchers the lyrics to “Jack and Diane” by John Mellencamp.


End file.
